A Mother in Her Own Words
by graphitewarrior
Summary: Rewrote an oldie in time for (American) Mother's Day! Jack wants to find out more about his mentor, but it's hard when she keeps everything private. His only option, then, is to sneak around in her room. He discovers new information; what will he think of her after that? One-shot. No pairing aside from implied Boss/Sorrow.


The Boss was out of the house again, and this time, Jack had decided that he was finally going to look at what was in her room. He wasn't allowed back there, but he couldn't help being curious, especially because she never told him anything about herself, not even her real name. Opening the bedroom's door, his eyes met with a simple bed—clothed in sheets that looked like standard military issue—that sat against the adjacent wall. The curtains were a drab gray, yet thin; a cedar desk stood to the left of the curtains, and a nightstand with a couple of drawers stood next to the bed. There was a small chest of drawers across the room from the bed, and there was no mirror. It was a plain room, but it was what one would expect of her.

An open drawer on the nightstand caught Jack's attention, and he walked over to check out what was inside of it. There were a few miscellaneous trinkets laying in it: her army-green bandana that she sometimes wore during training, a pair of expensive-looking clip-on earrings, and a black book with an open lock around a silver ring on its cover. He picked the book up and sat down on the edge of the bed. When he opened the book, he noticed that it was filled with what had to be her handwriting, half-script and old-fashioned. He realized upon seeing dates written at the top of each page that the notebook had been used as a diary. He began rapidly flipping through the pages but had to pause when he noticed that one was dark red on its edge. He looked at the entry; it was dated 1945. He began to read.

 _January 15th, 1945._

 _I'm still stuck here in Europe. Not sure why, but I've got to get back, especially now that the baby has been born. I'm worried about him. The nurses took him away, telling me he needed "special care." I suspect that they wouldn't venture to ask me what I need. I just gave birth! Anyway, I am doubtful that I'll see him again. I have a feeling they want to take him away from me. And The Sorrow will never see him, ever. I don't know where he or any of the others are._

 _My left hand, bleeding from an open cut, hurts as I hold this journal open to write, but the nurses still haven't tended to this wound. They're "too busy." I guess all that they were willing to do was fix the stitches that I made after the baby was born. I've sacrificed so much for my child, but I don't think there'll be any reward, not even the pleasure of looking after him._

 _Life seems to turn out this way a lot lately. It doesn't seem fair, but I have to just accept it as it comes. I may enjoy the feel of combat, but I want to go home now._

Jack set the diary in his lap for a moment. The Boss had family—a husband or boyfriend and a baby—and she had never shared anything about them. Maybe she didn't speak of them because they were gone. It was very likely, but he hated to dwell on such a grim possibility. Jack was especially interested in finding out what had happened to the baby. Its situation reminded Jack of his own; he, too, had never known his parents. Jack flipped a few pages ahead in the journal and read further, dreading reading about what had happened to The Boss's family, yet eager to find out more information about her life before they had met.

 _Sept. 26th, 1945._

 _The war is over, and I'm finally back home. Before I announced our unit's breakup, I got to see The Sorrow one last time. I don't know why, but he can't come back to the United States. It was nice to see him anyways. I told him about when I saw our baby for the last time, before they took him away. He was proud and sad. To comfort me, he held me close and looked sweetly into my eyes. I realized when looking at him how old we two must be getting. His hairline seems to be receding very rapidly, but regardless of age, his eyes still pierce my soul and are my one true weakness. After I told him about the baby, we agreed to make our farewell short and simple. Drawing it out would have only made losing each other more difficult. Regardless, I know without seeing him anymore that he misses me a lot._

 _I wanted a break from combat. That's why I organized our unit's breakup. But it's hard to lose the people I care about in the process._

Just as Jack had predicted, The Boss had been separated from her baby and from The Sorrow, although she hadn't written down why they had been parted. He could feel the regret and sadness that she had experienced upon meeting with Sorrow for the last time. He really wanted to ask her about her family, but he knew that she would yell at him if she found out he had been reading the entries. But his curiosity outweighed his guilt, and he desperately needed to read one more. Reading this diary gave him insight into the personal emotions and true nature of his mentor, aspects of her personality that were almost always concealed from him. The next entry to which he turned was very recent compared to the others; it was only about a year old. And he noticed that his name was written in the entry.

 _May 25th, 1952._

 _As each day passes, I invest more of myself and my time in raising Jack. Some might call it plain old training, but I think I'm teaching him more than just battlefield skills. I don't know if he grew up with his parents, but I'm beginning to suspect he never knew them, for he has taken to me as he would to a blood mother, and I treat him as I would my own son. Though Jack is young and innocent, he is very intelligent and catches on quickly to some of the more complicated aspects of combat, survival, and theory. I might even call him gifted._

 _In spite of his prowess, I'm worried about him. He leaves here every night, but he's not returning to his home or even to an adequate shelter. This evening, I followed him as he left my house, for I needed to find out where his residence was in case of an emergency. It turned out that he walks all the way form the woods into town and sleeps behind that shiny new silver-chrome diner. No one notices him, and he seems to have no problem doing so, but I'm concerned nonetheless. I feel obligated to help him, but I'm afraid he'd decline if I offered to let him stay here._

 _But he can't stay outside all year long; that's just ridiculous. I have to take him in. It's my job to take care of him now. I feel responsible for him, but I'm not bitter, and I have no regrets. In fact, I'm glad I met Jack._

Jack replaced the book in the open drawer; his eyes watered, but no tears fell. He was glad that he had met The Boss, too. At that time last year, she had helped him get over his stubbornness and found him a real place to live. And she was teaching him how to be a better soldier and a better person nearly every day. She was truly like a mother to him; she was the mother he had never had.

The turning of keys in the lock downstairs signaled her arrival, and Jack rushed out of her bedroom and closed the door again. He walked downstairs to meet her as she opened the front door. Looking unwaveringly into her blue eyes, he said, "Thanks, Boss."

"For what are you thanking me?" she said, her eyes narrowed, her mouth turned slightly downward. It was the expression that was always on her face. He had never known her to smile.

"For always being there for me," he replied, grinning as he walked into the living room, which was to the left of the doorway. She looked after him questioningly.

"Jack, I know what today is, but I'm not…" She trailed off. Today was something special? It wasn't anything he knew about. Today's date… today's date… of course! It was the second Sunday in May—Mother's Day, and The Boss was the closest he would ever get to having a mother. And how could he not thank her for caring about him, especially after reading those journal entries?

"Thanks for everything, really," he said. His back was to her; he did not see his mentor's eyes glimmering, the corners of her lips faintly turned up.


End file.
